


All Methods to a Man's Heart

by fyredancer



Category: Tokio Hotel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyredancer/pseuds/fyredancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five things that will not get near Bill Kaulitz's mouth...and one that will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Methods to a Man's Heart

**Author's Note:**

> For pseudoblu's birthday! :D Many happy Biorg-y returns.
> 
> This particular story has a very specific construction. I am wondering if anyone will notice. :B >_> Well, I guess it's not possible. But it was fun to play around with.
> 
> Thank you, kishmet, for the beta.

Georg didn't realize the full implications of Bill's latest wholehearted conversion until Bill walked into the kitchen attached to their studio, drew himself up to his considerable height, and leveled a finger in Georg's direction with a scandalized shout.

"What!?" Georg exclaimed, dropping his pizza and glancing behind him, just in case Tom had shaved his head, or something. He'd have to grab out the camera phone for that.

"What," Bill said, with a full, dramatic pause, "are you _eating?_ "

Georg said without hesitation, "Pizza."

Bill quivered like a dog on point. "What _kind_ of pizza?"

"Um, pepperoni?" Georg offered, glancing down at his food, knowing that Bill must have spotted that much himself, from the blotchy red circles that adorned the pizza slice.

Bill stalked toward him, looking ruffled though his hair was down that day, forming soft layers around his face. "And do you think I'm going to accept pepperoni in my mouth, Georg?" he inquired, his tone switching from steely to a husky sort of purr.

Georg's eyes crossed. Bill was slinking toward him with that particular hip-popping swivel that made him unable to think anything but dirty thoughts. "No, but hopefully you won't be averse to some sausage?"

Bill's eyes narrowed. He glided into Georg's space, hanging an arm over his shoulder, and leaned in close. His parted lips hovered close enough for Georg to press his open mouth to Bill's.

As Georg moved to fulfill that promise, a long, fine-boned finger stoppered against his mouth.

"I don't think so," Bill hissed.

Georg made a wounded noise. 

"No pepperoni kisses for Bill," Bill declared. He pulled out of range, his eyes smoky and inviting. "Regretting the choice of pizza, now?"

"I'm not a vegetarian!" Georg stated, appalled that Bill would think he could drag him right along in his meatless endeavors.

Bill wrinkled his nose. "Meat is cruelty," he began, trying that tack again in his most persuasive voice.

Georg did not say 'ugh' because he enjoyed getting laid, but he was sure his thoughts were clear on his face. "Come on, Bill...there's no actual pepperoni in my mouth right _now_..."

Bill made a face and eluded Georg's attempt to reach for him.

"No, you'd taint me," he declared. "I can't, Georg. But you could be vegetarian with me...we could be kissing _right now_..."

Georg shook his head, adamant. "We talked about this."

Bill pouted.

"For me, the tasty ends justify the meat," Georg told Bill.

"I think that's 'the means,'" Bill countered.

Georg grinned at him, reaching up to brush his knuckles along Bill's jaw in a whisper-soft caress. "I think I had it right the first time," he replied. "Now, what sort of cleansing routine is required in order to get back into your good graces – and your mouth – again?"

Bill's brows rose. He sidled close, but averted his face when Georg moved in for a kiss. "I don't want to _taste_ it, Georg," he said. "It's gross."

"I'll brush my teeth," Georg offered.

"That works," Bill said, sidling closer, bumping his couture boot against Georg's ankle. "I hope you ordered me plain cheese."

Georg gave him a besotted smile, pulling the second box closer to reveal the five-cheese blend he'd been hiding from Gustav and Tom.

"My hero," Bill proclaimed, piling into the chair beside Georg.

* * *

Bill returned with a security escort at his back from the restroom of the upscale cafe that management had cleared out for a couple of hours for their use. He squeezed into his place in the booth beside Tom, setting his immense Gucci bag to the floor, and looked round with a delighted smile.

"Great, lunch is here!" he proclaimed, glanced across the table, and his jaw dropped. "What. Is that."

Georg was used to this tone, and glanced reflexively at his plate. "It's vegetarian," he said, defensive. He had been careful in his lunch selection; he wanted to be allowed kisses later that day.

"It's broccoli," Bill said, almost whining.

"You're not going to eat it," Tom pointed out, calm.

"I might later, by accident," Bill declared, making a series of faces that were probably intended to convey disgust, yet Georg found them adorable.

"I don't even want to know how that works," Tom moaned, pushing his plate away, implying loss of appetite.

"You know, something like that gets caught in the teeth, or even way back in the throat, and you're making out, and--"

"And going for his tonsils hard enough to make him regurgitate undigested broccoli?" Tom interrupted, sarcastic.

Bill pulled a frowny face at Tom. "You don't like broccoli either."

"Broccoli is a vegetable," Georg felt the need to point out. "It's steamed, they put a little lemon on it...it's very tasty."

"Broccoli is _not_ a vegetable, it's a curse on humanity," Bill shot back. "I hope you weren't expecting to meet me in the bathroom later, because a make-out session is not going to happen at all."

Gustav twitched beside Georg before clearly making an effort to sink even more deeply into the copy of DRUMS! that he was perusing. Tom grimaced.

"You guys make out in the bathroom?" he questioned. "Sick, that's totally sick. People _go_ in there."

"You should talk, Mr. I-had-three-fingers-in-the-Swedish-chick-last-tour," Georg countered. "That was in a bathroom, too, wasn't it? Considering the venue, it wasn't a particularly swank bathroom, either."

"Shut up!" Bill exclaimed, and either kicked Georg or attempted to begin a round of footsie with him. The intention was somewhat vague until the point of Bill's toe began to travel up his inseam. "No more broccoli."

"Georg isn't asking and I probably don't want to know the answer, but why not broccoli, Bill?" Tom inquired.

"I don't like the taste," Bill said. "It smells like ass, and it tastes--"

"I've heard enough," Tom declared, holding up a hand and scooting away from Bill.

"I brought dental floss," Georg offered.

"Hmm," Bill said, pretending to consider, but his dark eyes were twinkling promise across the table at Georg.

"And I'll cross it off the list," Georg told him. "I'm not giving up meat for you, but it's no loss to me if I never eat broccoli again, as long as I have you."

Bill smirked, and the point of his boot trailed higher up Georg's leg. "Maybe someone's getting lucky, after all."

"Georg is the luckiest man I know," Tom said, on track to making one of his Georg-centric jokes again.

"I really am," Georg interrupted, wishing he could publicly reach across the table for Bill's hand. "But not for any reasons you'd understand, Tom."

"That's more disgusting than broccoli," was Tom's reply.

* * *

"You really should have known better this time," Bill stated, glancing down at the plate where tendrils of mushroom peeked out from behind the fillet of fish.

Georg returned the glare with a bemused smile. "It's fish," he stated. "Fish is on the list, right?" He'd emailed Tom in advance to be sure before he prepared the meal. It wouldn't be the first time, though, that Bill had changed the rules on his twin without advance notice. Bill had been looking somewhat peaked lately and Georg thought he might need more protein.

"Georg," Bill said, cocking his head at Georg with the funny little look that implied Georg had a mental defect. "Those are mushrooms."

Georg blinked, twice. "I didn't think you were that against them--"

"They are a _perverse_ food, and I'm not going to eat them!" Bill declared, edging his chair back from the table. "I said it on camera, even! So it's like you were there _twice_!"

Georg didn't stop to puzzle that one over. "I thought you exaggerated that for the clip," he said slowly. "I mean, you've eaten mushrooms--"

"When? Where?" Bill questioned in rising tones, appearing positively scandalized. "I think I'd notice any ridiculously phallus-shaped objects approaching my face."

Georg had to smirk at that. "Well, you sure know what to do with them when they get there."

Bill reached out to slap him, playfully Georg hoped, but Georg caught at his wrist and got Bill off guard, wrestling him from his chair and toppling him into his lap. "I never," he huffed, wrinkling his nose and trying to keep his face averted from the dish, which made him turn toward Georg.

"Plenty of times," Georg contradicted, continuing with a modicum of glee, "it's in the sauce."

Bill stared at him, mouth dropping open slowly. "I've been subjected to non-consensual mushrooms?" he demanded in a dumbstruck whisper.

"Um. Yes?" Georg said, trying to modulate his tone when he realized Bill was truly horrified.

"But they look so...so...it's disgusting!" Bill wailed, clinging to his shoulder.

"Well," Georg said, vaguely injured without quite knowing why. "You put _mine_ in your mouth..."

"Your penis is not a mushroom, Georg!" Bill said, grimacing. "I don't bite down and chew it!"

"But you do swallow," Georg murmured, and accepted the flailing smack that was coming to him, that time.

"So," Bill said, staring down at their untouched plates.

"So," Georg said, heaving a little sigh and considering all the effort he'd actually put into planning and carrying out the meal. He wasn't much of a cook, but...when he looked over at Bill's face and caught the slight lip tremble that Bill was trying to repress, he couldn't bring himself to blame Bill or press him to try and eat something that gave him some kind of trauma, however slight.

"Thank you for making me dinner," Bill said, burrowing against his shoulder. Smooth, soft lips caressed Georg's neck in a brief touch, tongue extending as though to sample Georg's skin.

"But," Georg continued.

"But..." Bill agreed, and trailed off. He nuzzled against Georg's ear, placing barely-there kisses along the edge of his jaw.

Georg smiled and turned his head, catching Bill and trapping glossed lips with his own. "So, pizza?" he inquired, after he'd gotten in his daily devotionals.

"Ohhh, lecker!" Bill agreed.

* * *

Georg boarded the bus in two strides, munching the last of the fruit he'd snagged from the catering table and looking around for a handy bin to dispose of the remnants. Gustav had grudgingly agreed to a night on the Kaulitz van, swapping places with Georg to pave the way for a rare night of bliss; but then, it was Georg's birthday, after all.

"All right, operation Bill and Georg in one bus, phase two is completed," Bill declared, coming into the forward area with a victory arm pump.

Georg checked to make sure all of the curtains were drawn shut before drawing close, snaring Bill with one arm and reeling him in for a kiss. Such was the plan.

He found himself with a hand against his mouth. He looked over Bill's arm into big brown eyes, rendered wider by terror.

"What are you trying to do, kill me?" Bill squeaked.

"What?" Georg exclaimed, blinking over at Bill, who did not appear to be joking at all. "Why would I – Bill, what are you talking about?"

"That's an _apple_ , Georg," Bill exclaimed, practically tearful over it. "There's apple in your hand. In your mouth. Augh, on your tongue!"

Georg stared at his boyfriend in utter stupefaction. "Look, I know you're allergic, but...I'm not shoving the apple down your throat, yeah? I mean, I already ate it, so--"

"I could die, Georg!' Bill interrupted. "Do you want me to die from apple-flavored kisses?"

"You're such a drama queen, Bill," Georg replied pragmatically. "You're not going to die from second-hand apple."

This was clearly the wrong thing to say, Georg realized, as Bill sputtered at him, pointed an imperious finger at him, and stomped for the rear of the bus.

"Shit," Georg sighed, finding a waste receptacle and chucking his apple core. It bounced off the rim and landed neatly in the basket, and he punched air before realizing all the long shots in the world wouldn't keep him warm at night if he was banished to the couch.

He headed for the back area of the bus, where a divider had been drawn shut with a clack during Georg's round of self-congratulation.

"Bill," he called out, plaintive and feeling the results of exile already. "I got rid of the apple. I'll brush my teeth?"

"Not good enough!" Bill called through the divider.

"Well...what, then?" Georg wanted to know. He crossed the space between and laid a hand against the divider, not quite up to knocking. He was pretty sure he was still being shunned.

"Gargle," Bill said, indistinct. "Then I'll let you in my mouth."

"I did have plans for that mouth," Georg said, reminiscent.

"Nothing's coming near this mouth until you've got the apple out of your system!" Bill called through the door.

"Does that mean..." Georg trailed off, unsure as to the full implications. Did Bill think the apple was in his pores, his bodily excretions, his...oh god. "Bill? Wait a minute...Bill? What do you mean, _out of my system?_ "

"Everything, Georg," Bill said, ominous.

"Wait, so...you want me to go purge it?"

"Gross!" Bill exclaimed, kicking the divider. "You'd better not blow apple chunks in my toilet!"

"Well, then...what can fix this?" Georg asked forlornly. He wanted his birthday kisses. And his birthday... "Fuck."

"Mouthwash," Bill said. "Then I'll let you."

* * *

This time, Georg's first clue to the problem was the tines of Bill's fork clacking along his plate, making an obnoxious _scree_ noise as he poked at one of Georg's side dishes.

"I can't believe you eat that," Bill stage-whispered, making his 'blech' face.

"It's asparagus," Georg said, eyeing the crisp green stalks, wondering how Bill could find offense with them.

Across the table Tom looked up, always eager to enter the conversation for potential to do a disservice to Georg's reputation. "What are you...ew."

Georg shook his head, beyond amused. "You do realize out of the the three of us, _I'm_ the one who's not the vegetarian here? What vendetta have you got against asparagus?"

"The taste--" Tom began.

"—yeah, totally taste," Bill picked up the thread. "And it's such a gross color, you know--"

"—that puke shade of green," Tom agreed with a nod. "But most especially – worst of all – you know, the--"

"Pee," Bill interrupted. "It makes your pee smell fucking nasty, Georg."

Georg was contrarily determined on this score. "Flush it and leave the bathroom; it's over and done with. It's not like the smell lingers, or anything..."

"Maybe other bodily fluids taste nasty after you eat asparagus," Bill said, wrinkling his nose.

"Aw, sick!" Tom exclaimed, kicking Georg under the table.

"Hey, quit!" Georg told him, trying to kick back but Tom was wily, and fast. His leg retracted too quickly for Georg to connect. "You kicked me, not Bill."

Tom smirked at him. "I'm pretty sure I got it right."

Georg rolled his eyes, turning back to Bill. "What are you talking about? It's a temporary effect, and it's not like you're allergic..."

"The taste," Bill complained. "I don't want that in my mouth, you know?"

"Well, it's not..." Georg began, brow wrinkling in confusion.

"Can you not--?" Tom cut in, a look of extreme discomfort crossing his face. "At the _table_ , geez, guys. I'm losing my appetite and if I'm ever gonna have sex again, I want to be able to get a boner when I do."

"No one asked you to listen," Bill snapped, flushing.

At last Georg got it. "Hey, wait," he said slowly. "You mean, you wouldn't...just because I've had asparagus?"

Bill leaned in close and placed a warm hand on Georg's knee. His lips brushed near Georg's ear, vibrating faintly. "What if _that_ tastes funny, too?"

Georg gave him a hopeful look. "Only one way to find out?"

"Ew, no," Bill said, covering his own mouth as though Georg had proposed to pick up a forkful of asparagus and shove it between his lips. "I'm sure you've noticed, Georg, but I'm very particular about what goes in my mouth."

"I can hear you," Tom said, loudly, from across the table.

Bill smirked at him. "Shut up, you're just jealous I have a sex life."

Tom made a discomfited noise. "Not so much; more...wishing you'd quit talking about it all the time."

"No sex tonight," Bill replied.

"Wait, what?" Georg questioned. "When was this decided?"

"When you ate about half your asparagus," Bill told him, giving his knee an apologetic squeeze. "I'm not sucking it if it smells like...asparagus pee." He lowered his voice for the last two words.

"I can still hear you," Tom said. "And that's gross."

* * *

"Oh...ohh," Bill uttered, letting the soft moans tumble from his throat as he leaned against his pillows and enjoyed the way Georg was thoroughly working him over. "Ohh, Georg...you can do that all night."

Georg pulled his lips free, crooking a very sure-of-himself grin up Bill's body before he rubbed his mouth along the inside of one leg, caressing down Bill's inner thigh and working toward a sensitive knee.

"Not that, though!" Bill warned, drawing up his leg.

Wary of his mule kick, Georg drew back and patted his thigh with soothing fingers. "Turn around and kneel up," he instructed.

Bill's eyes lit with pure pleasure. "Really?" he demanded. Georg had been taking his time, really making him wait at each step, and the thought that he was about to enjoy his first climax was alluring.

Georg blew him an air-kiss and raised a brow, urging Bill up into the new position with soft pats of his hands as Bill twisted lithely beneath him. The sheets gathered beneath them were still crisp, not yet completely unraveled in the throes of wanton trysting. They had been making out for hours, first; Tom had driven into town for some solo errands, giving them the afternoon. One might think Georg and Bill would dive into bed right away, given that kind of leisure, but Bill liked to take his time and Georg liked to indulge him. They spent a good long while on an armchair trading kisses, soft nibbles and deeper exploration, hint of tongue and lips parting to share breath and the warmth that spun out between them.

Anticipation building could be one of the best parts, or lead into some really fabulous sex. Bill could tell that Georg had definite plans for the latter, that afternoon. He pushed back against the hand that Georg ran over one flank, silently urging him on.

Georg continued stroking his rear for a moment, then leaned in and began to kiss him, his lips traveling from Bill's sacrum on downward.

"Oh...Georg, are you...?" Bill's breath fluttered in his throat. Now there was an act rarely performed, but oh so welcome when they did.

"Mm-hmm," Georg murmured, as he traveled further, beginning to lavish kisses into the center of him. He used one hand to hold him open, applying the pressure of his tongue, clinging with his lips and making Bill bury his face against the pillows and sob.

In short order, Bill was a writhing mess collapsed on the bed, his thighs splayed, grasping the pillows, hair in utter disarray. "More," he demanded.

"What kind of more?" Georg murmured, petting down against him, making Bill squirm and whine, needy.

"More...everything," Bill said, breathless, unable to decide.

Georg turned Bill around in his arms and brought their bodies together, rubbing, moving together with urgent little gasps – Bill – and deep groans from Georg. Bill looked at Georg through half-lidded eyes, enjoying the rapt expression on his face. He leaned in against him to capture Georg's wet, swollen lips with his own. Their next kiss was hot and dominated by Bill's probing tongue, lapping into every corner of Georg's mouth as though each bit of it were undiscovered country.

"But this, you'll kiss," Georg said, when Bill finished nuzzling his mouth.

"Of course," Bill replied, smile dazzling. "It's you and me."


End file.
